


Things That Friends Do

by Aenaria



Series: Small, Little Things [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Feels, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Porn, beardy!steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 13:33:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1071053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aenaria/pseuds/Aenaria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers and Darcy Lewis are friends.  Really, that’s all they are.  Friends who have sex occasiona…frequently.  But that’s it.</p><p>Denial’s not just a river in Egypt, however, and some people – especially busy people who work hard saving the world with a bright shield or coffee and snacks to keep their boss from going over into mad scientist territory – can’t quite see what’s right in front of them.  They’ll get it eventually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things That Friends Do

**Author's Note:**

> It’s done, it’s finally done. *passes out from exhaustion*. This is the piece I’ve been babbling for months about on my tumblr, through trials, revisions, and a patch of not working on it at all. But now it’s done and I can’t be happier with how it turned out. It’s also probably the porniest thing I’ve ever written. I wasn’t quite expecting that, but there you have it. ;)
> 
> Technically, this is the prequel to Zombie Preparedness Plan, however you don’t need to read that one to figure out what’s going on here. And like that story, this one was also spurred on by a very inspirational (and fairly nsfw) gif: http://le-plaisir-du-sexe.tumblr.com/post/55536628604. I spent a lot of time either on Tumblr or streaming Avengers cartoons while writing this, so you may see some familiar references (including beardy!Steve).
> 
> And speaking of which, deepest thanks to my betas, Merideath and Theladyscribe, for whipping this story into shape, offering encouragement, helping me smooth out the rough patches, and just generally being awesome. Thank you ladies.
> 
> All right, on with the show. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy the story!

**Tonight**

            It’s far from the first time he finds himself deep inside her, thrusting slowly as she comes apart beneath him.  But there’s something different about this time, in the way her nails rake down the sweat-slicked skin of his back, the way her legs grip at his hips as he moves, the way her heart pounds beneath his mouth as he licks a line up her breast.

                                                *                      *                      *

**_Very Early Spring_ **

_“It’s just something that friends do,” Darcy says, smirking across the couch at him the first time she makes the suggestion.  It’s a combination of post-battle endorphins and worry and alcohol that has her bringing the topic up during the impromptu festivities in the Tower after the dust settles.  “I know it may offend your delicate 1940s sensibilities –“_

_Steve cuts her off with a raised eyebrow.  “Really?  You don’t think that people back in the day were having sex without being in love?  Especially in the middle of a war zone?” Steve says, trying not to match her smirk for smirk._

_“Oh, shut up.”_

_“Seriously,” Darcy says later, when they’ve snuck away to a mostly hidden balcony for some fresh air – and to escape the rapidly escalating festivities inside.  Thor’s already broken out his Asgardian homebrew much to the delight of a few of his teammates, but Steve’s in the mood for some peace and quiet instead._

_Darcy insists she is not drinking his homemade hooch ever again.  Not after the last time._

_“I don’t want to ask anything more than what you’re willing to give,” she says, sitting down on one of the loungers Tony (or, more accurately, Pepper) arranged out there, “but I’d bet anything we could be so good together.”_

_Steve leans against the railing, hair buffeted about by the slight winds that are omnipresent at this height, and sees the glowing expanse of Manhattan’s buildings and life laid out before him.  If he was more of a painter he would love to try and capture the image, preserve it for years to come to remember the way those lights and those lives look at that very moment, but his skills wouldn’t be able to do the memory justice.  “Is that a gut feeling?” he asks her._

_“Yup,” Darcy says with a decisive nod._

_It wouldn’t at all be a hardship, Steve thinks, rather suddenly.  Darcy is undoubtedly attractive, and there’s a part of him that wouldn’t at all mind having that closeness with someone once more.  Especially with someone who knows all aspects of his life, not just the officially sanctioned cover story from SHIELD.  That may explain why the few attempts at dates he’d made in the 21 st century ended up being first dates only._

_“Will you still respect me in the morning?” Steve says, smirking._

_“Only as much as I respect you now,” Darcy grins back._

_(If it helps him feel not as lost in the woods in this modern world, all the better, she thinks.  Even after being awake for over a year he still gets that look on his face all too often, and she hates seeing someone who’s become that good a friend look so sad.)_

_That night, they have sex for the first time right there on that lounger, and even though the air’s cold neither one of them notices it._

_*                      *                      *_

One thrust hits her in just the right way, making Darcy arch her back hard until her breasts are pressed up against his chest and her eyes are squeezed shut.  She moans through gritted teeth, and Steve leans down to suck first at her upper lip and then her lower one.  “Please,” she whispers brokenly into his mouth, pressing her heel into his ass to bring him even closer to her.

                                                *                      *                      *

_This arrangement is easy and convenient for both of them.  Steve spends so much time working, being sent out on missions and saving the day as Captain America that having a social life is pretty much out of the question.  This is also why he always turns down the dates Natasha attempts to set him up on – or so he tells himself.  And Darcy, well, she considers herself to be far too free to be tied down to any man.  She works just as hard, wrangling the scientists in the SHIELD labs at all hours of the day so she doesn’t really get out much herself.  But their paths cross frequently throughout the weeks, and sometimes all it takes is a shared glance or a quick press of the hand as they pass in the halls to let them know that the other is watching._

_Sneaking around is part of the fun, Darcy has to admit.  Between her studio, his apartment, his rooms in Stark Tower (where JARVIS is under strict orders not to divulge what he sees in Steve’s room – Tony would never let them hear the end of it), hidden nooks and alcoves in SHIELD headquarters, there’s a great number of places for them to meet up for their assignations, as Steve calls them._

_“Dude, call it what it is,” Darcy says as she rolls off of him to face plant contentedly into the pillows of her bed.  “We meet up and fuck like bunnies.”_

_“You know, they mean the same thing,” Steve says, catching the dismissive hand she waves in his direction and pulling her back into his chest._

_“Whatever, smart ass.”_

_*                      *                      *_

While Steve devotes his time to that small patch of skin behind her ear that swoops down her neck and into her shoulder, nipping delicate little bites into the flesh there, Darcy occupies herself by running her hands up his sides.  She can feel the muscles moving right below the skin, flexing and stretching with every movement of his hips.  Her fingers run over his nipples, flicking and skimming her nails over them until they turn into hard peaks.  Steve moans into her neck, and she can feel it vibrating through her body just as she swears his cock gets harder inside of her.

                                                *                      *                      *

            _Darcy knows she’s always been a bit of a flirt, especially when she gets comfortable with a crowd.  Maybe it’s another term for just being friendly and open with people, but her grandmother’s always called it flirting and Darcy likes the thought of keeping up a family tradition.  She flirts with many of the people she works with and even some of the Avengers when she sees them, preferring to be outgoing around others rather than the calm and quiet person that exists within her that doesn’t often get a chance to show its face._

_But she dials back her flirting around Steve, keeping her habits tamer than her typical effervescence.  She tells herself that she does this so she won’t give away the game, let the others onto their friendly arrangement.  Just maybe it’s also because she wants him to see every facet of herself, not just the obvious one she chooses to show people.  Steve, ever the savvy one, picks up on her game and keeps their public relationship friendly, if slightly impersonal.  Everyone knows they’re acquainted; no one but them needs to know just how close they actually are._

_The one misfire in the whole thing is that Darcy’s plot does not go unnoticed by some of the team.  This prompts Tony to clap his hands down on Steve’s shoulders and say amid snickers: “I love how much you can fluster Captain Spangles here and render him speechless when you start with the modern woman stuff.”_

_“I am not flustered,” Steve spits out, and Darcy’s pretty sure the flush on the back of his neck is from anger and not embarrassment._

_“Keep telling yourself that, Cap.”_

_“Tony, will you just back the hell off?”_

_Darcy knows Steve isn’t anywhere near flustered.  Flustered and at a loss for words is when she goes down on her knees and sucks his brain out through his cock.  That’s flustered and it is positively glorious, the way his entire body moves just because of her mouth and hands.  She can nearly taste him on her tongue with the memory alone._

_This here?  This is just really good acting and Tony is buying every single word of it._

_*                      *                      *_

Moving quicker than either one of them could have imagined, Steve straightens up and pulls Darcy along with him.  One long arm braces her back, keeping her upright, while his other hand wraps around her hip, fingers digging in hard enough to make her moan.  Her head falls back and she grinds down on him, bringing him inside her as deeply as possible.  He can feel the press of her breasts against his already sweat-slicked chest, moving with every gasping breath she takes.

                                                *                      *                      *

            _There’s an incident (of course there’s an incident.  It’s always something these days) in the labs.  A scientific research group with a morality on the far side of crazy – no one actually says the word terrorists but the implication is obvious –makes waves in the wrong direction, so SHIELD sends out a retrieval team that comes back with a nifty and rather dangerous device.  Needless to say the people who have their toy stolen don’t take too kindly to the encroachment.  The army they send isn’t exactly human – hybrid clones, Bruce states with a mix of admiration and horror.  They’re not the best fighters but they’ve got numbers on their side and a startling lack of fear._

_The one thing that SHIELD has got going for them is that it’s a Saturday afternoon and the labs are almost empty.  This may be why it was so easy for the goons to get in, but it also means that there are only a handful of civilians that need to be evacuated.  So the strike teams, along with Iron Man, Captain America, Hawkeye, and the Hulk as an absolute last resort, are called to help rout the bastards once more._

_Steve slices at one of the clones with the edge of the shield, sending a spray of dark blood in his direction that reminds him of brackish water.  If they needed further proof of the lack of humanity of these things…_

_He can’t take the thought much further as there’s another clone coming up fast behind him, wrapping its hands around his neck and starting to squeeze.  Well that just won’t do, as Steve really isn’t in the mood for dying today._

_Then he hears a feminine sounding grunt, followed by a fleshy, thwacking noise.  The clone goes limp, sliding off his back and hitting the floor with a thud.  Steve whips around to see Darcy standing there, looking like an avenging angel in a plaid shirt and jeans.  He’s not sure how she can see through the hair flying around in her face, but it’s apparent the baseball bat clutched in her hands met its target._

_Darcy opens her mouth to say something, her face pale and her hands twitching nervously on her baseball bat.  But there’s another goon coming up fast down the corridor, so in a series of slick moves Steve grabs her, shoves her behind him, and wings the shield out into the hall.  The shield pings off of the wall, catches the clone neatly in the midsection, knocking him flat to the ground in a heap of flesh, and bangs off of the opposite wall to sail right back to Steve._

_“I am so not cut out for this superhero shit,” Darcy says, digging her fingers into his belt._

_“Come on, let’s get out of here.”  Steve turns and begins to push her down the corridor, trying to put as much distance between themselves and where the clones are coming from as possible._

_“Seriously, what the hell is going on?” she asks as they attempt to make their way outside.  “These lunatics just burst into the room acting all crazy and wondering where their shit was.  I’m not even supposed to be here today!”_

_“Explanations later, evacuation first,” Steve insists, leading her into a staircase.  The stairs creak, a rusty groaning noise that never heralds anything good._

_Darcy grips his shoulder as they pick their way past pockmarks in the wall from stray bullets, the metal railing dangling out into space, and the concrete steps torn up like someone took a jackhammer to them.  The way down is perilous, but it’s the most direct way out of the building that won’t put them in the way of more of the clones. He helps her hop the last few steps to the landing and makes sure she's safe before heading back into the fray._

_When it’s all over but the interrogation of the surviving goons, Steve finds Darcy slouched in a chair crammed in one corner of the mobile command center, a bottle of water squeezed tightly in her hands.  “You okay?” he asks.  He can take a few seconds to check up on one of his friends, he thinks.  Even Fury wouldn’t begrudge him that now that the fighting’s done._

_“Yeah,” she says, though there’s something off in her voice.  Darcy then looks up at him, eyes oddly bright behind her glasses.  “There’s something kind of exhilarating about it, isn’t there?  This whole superhero thing.”_

_Steve just nods.  He knows exactly what she’s talking about._

_*                      *                      *_

            Darcy stills in his lap, her breaths becoming careful and measured as if she’s trying to rein her pulse in by simple thought.  Steve fights back the urge to move, because fuck if she isn’t tight and wet and so hot deep inside it feels like it could scorch his skin off.  She brings her head back up, and in this position they’re of a height with each other, their faces close together.  Darcy raises her hands and puts her palms on his cheeks, overgrown stubble rasping slightly against her skin.  She strokes her thumbs along his cheekbones as she stares at him.

            “What are you doing?” Steve whispers, low enough and carefully enough so as not to break this little spell that seems to have wrapped itself around them tonight.

            She sinks her teeth into one corner of her lower lip, worrying it a bit, yet her eyes remain firmly on him.  “Looking at you,” she says.

                                                *                      *                      *

            _They should get up and move.  They really, really should.  Darcy’s got brunch plans in the morning with friends (other friends that aren’t him and who don’t really know anything at all about the classified goings on at work).  And even though they’re at Steve’s apartment and not his rooms in the tower, his teammates have been known to show up unannounced.  He’s not ashamed of what they do – in fact, the jerks would probably congratulate him if they knew exactly what’s going on – but he’s not inclined to kiss and tell about his bedroom activities as soon as they get a whiff that something’s up._

_Besides, they’re pleasantly sticky and still attempting to catch their breath, so moving isn’t at all a priority.  Not just yet.  Steve’s tendency to keep the apartment a bit on the warmer side (Darcy has accused him of having a hate-on when it comes to air conditioning – he told her to consider herself lucky that she can convince him to turn the ceiling fan on) makes it especially hard to escape the post sex lethargy._

_They’re both laid out naked on that large bed of Steve’s, close but not quite touching, and the only sound in the room is the whirr of the fan.  Darcy rolls to her side, stretching her back and bending her legs to loosen them up._

_“Tell me a secret,” she says._

_“Hmm?”_

_“Tell me something about Steve Rogers that nobody else knows.”_

_Steve rolls over, mirroring her position.  There’s a part of him, that particularly old fashioned part, that thinks this should feel weird, this lying there naked having such a casual conversation.  But instead it just feels comfortable, like it’s nothing out of the ordinary for them.  “Why do you want to know?”_

_Darcy leans forward, staring hard at him.  He’s not sure if she’s trying to be intimidating or if she really can’t see because her glasses are currently sitting on his night table.  “Why not?”_

_That competitive, never backs down from a fight part of him rears up, saying that if she wants a secret then he’ll give her one.  And dollars to donuts it won’t be the one she’s expecting.  Steve rolls to his back and reaches one long arm over the side, feeling around until his hand hits what he has hidden under there.  The dubious look on Darcy’s face makes him bite back a grin.  He has the strong suspicion he knows where her mind is going and really wants to see her reaction to what’s actually there._

_Clint always says he can be a bit of a troll sometimes._

_Steve draws his hand back, bringing a handful of magazines with him.  Darcy immediately frowns, her brow wrinkling and a dark look stealing over her face.  Apparently the implication of boys and their magazines hasn’t changed all that much since his day.  She pulls the magazines close to her, practically snatching them out of his hand and knocking them to the sheet below.  The moment she realizes exactly what she’s looking at is apparent when her face loses its tension and she stares up at him with raised eyebrows._

_“Tech magazines?  Really?”_

_Steve shrugs, lounging back on his pillows (the future is turning out to be quite good in the area of creature comforts).  “I like to keep on up on the new innovations that are out there.  And reading about them is a lot easier to digest than asking Tony about it.”_

_Darcy’s face is still scrunched up as if she can’t reconcile this new knowledge with her previously held beliefs about him.  She pulls one of the magazines closer to her, idly flicking through the pages.  “This can’t be all that surprising,” Steve continues, biting back a grin._

_“I think it’s the subject matter that I’m still trying to wrap my brain around,” she says, leaning closer to the magazines. “You know, I’m sure Stark would be happy to let you get up close and personal with his bots if you’re that turned on by electronics.”_

_Steve rolls his eyes and twists to the side so that he can face her fully.  “When I was a kid,” he begins, waiting until she drags her eyes away from the magazines and back up to him, “When I was a kid things like this – portable phones, DVD players, miniature computers - these were things that were just in books.  No one really thought they’d exist in everyday life and be able to be used.  Well, except for Howard Stark, maybe.”_

_“Sounds like someone was a big reader.”_

_“I was a sickly kid who got winded going up a flight of stairs, let alone running around outside.  I spent a lot of time indoors with books.  But it’s something that amazed me when I first woke up; that these things that come straight out of a fantasist’s brain now exist, and I can actually use them.”  His grin widens.  “What would you say – that it’s pretty damn cool?”_

_“You know it.”  Darcy grins back, glancing up at him from under a fringe of dark lashes.  “Now when I was a kid, there was this cartoon, and this kid on there she had this book.  But it wasn’t really a book; it was a computer and had the answers to everything they needed to solve their cases.”  She lifts her eyes to the ceiling, watching the fan as she gets lost in her memories briefly.  “Man, did I ever want that book-computer, but it was not to be.”_

_“It didn’t exist in real life, did it?”_

_“Nope.  And the mock up I drew in a composition book didn’t even compare.”  Darcy twists, a sinuous movement of her back that has her reaching over her side of the bed in a way that looks like it breaks a few of the laws of physics in the process.  She comes back in a moment with her tablet, dropping it on top of the magazines.  “Of course, cut to twenty years later and I’m the proud owner of an iPad, so wishes do come true eventually.”_

_They spend the rest of the night watching cartoons from Darcy’s childhood on the iPad, staying up far too late as they make their way from video to video._

_*                      *                      *_

There are traces of shimmer and dark liner around Darcy’s eyes, remnants left behind from their evening out.  Now it’s Steve’s turn to cup her face, running his fingers through the glittery makeup below her eyes.  Her lids flutter shut, and she wraps slender fingers around his wrist.  Eyes still closed, she pulls his thumb upwards and licks the pad of it, bringing the tip into her mouth.  Steve exhales shakily, and pulls her hips down onto his hard.  Whatever spot he hits inside makes Darcy moan around his finger, her teeth sinking in slightly.  The pressure’s just enough to get him moving again, and he cants his hips upwards, driving inside her once more.

                                                *                      *                      *

            _It’s not often that civilians are on site when they’re in full battle garb – and if they are, they’re usually running away from the chaos.  But when the location of the latest fight – an old theatre on the far outskirts of Queens that had been closed decades prior and spent the time since housing squatters and spiders – stars to show readings that are remarkably similar to previously recorded wormhole sightings, it’s inevitable that SHIELD’s civilian wormhole expert and her plucky sidekick get sent out to help get more information.  Of course, being the genius scientist means that Jane gets to stay in their cushy, air-conditioned, mobile lab space (their only lab space after the clone invasion as the SHIELD labs are still totally wrecked, but whatevs)._

_Meanwhile Darcy gets stuck hauling ass up to the non-air-conditioned attic of the theatre with a grass green SHIELD agent who bails on her about a minute after the equipment is set up.  All right, maybe he did receive a call from his SO demanding his presence on the ground.  And to be fair, he did do a thorough job checking out the attic to make sure the location was secure before leaving.  And the job is so delicate that Jane trusts only Darcy to set up the equipment properly and make sure it all works right while she relays the readings to the waiting SHIELD reps.  But she still feels abandoned.  Two minutes after that Jane calls saying some of the readings are a bit iffy, can she please stay up there and run the device through calibration to make sure it’s as accurate as possible?_

_Calibration on Jane’s custom equipment can take up to two hours._

_Ten minutes in, Darcy feels uncomfortably sweaty and would really like a Popsicle right about then.  Five minutes after that she is about ready to pick up her phone and start swearing in three different languages at Jane as she kicks off her sneakers, trying to cool her feet off a bit.  And ten minutes after that, Captain America walks in, only to find her splayed out on the dirty floor like a bearskin rug._

_“It’s too late.  Just leave me to die where I lie.”_

_“Don’t you think you’re being a bit melodramatic?”_

_Darcy looks up at Steve – wearing his full uniform that’s still got battle dust on it – from her prone position on the floor.  It’s entirely possible she’s overreacting.  However,  the facts are that it’s the middle of the night, ninety degrees if not hotter in the godforsaken attic, sweat is dripping off of every plane of her body, and she’s still got an hour and a half to go until Jane’s equipment is done calibrating.  So some complaining is probably understandable._

_Although if it means she’s now being treated to the sight of Steve in his battle gear, well, sometimes the universe must just really like her._

_She picks at her tank top, watching it land on the skin of her stomach with a damp splat.  “I’m about this close to being roast Darcy,” she says, grimacing.  Her scalp prickles with the bad kind of sweat, and she’s certain her hair bears a distinct resemblance to a nest right about now.  “Why are you here?” she asks, feeling that this is probably the worst she’s ever looked in her life (yes, Steve has seen her in the morning with a hellacious hangover, but that’s beside the point)._

_Steve just grins and sits on the creaking floor across from her, setting his shield down carefully next to him.  “Jane was concerned about you,” he says.  “I volunteered to come take a look.  You know, stop in and see how you were doing.”_

_“My hero.”_

_Darcy shifts her legs, wincing as the sweaty skin on her legs sticks together, and props her now flip-flop clad feet in his lap (she’ll risk exposing her partially bare feet to the potential health hazards of the attic floor if it means she keeps getting little breezes on her toes).  There are no words exchanged, but Steve leans back just enough so that she can bring her legs over his and give them a comfortable perch.  “How are you not dying of heat stroke?” she asks after a few minutes, too hot to muster up the energy to do anything else._

_Steve smiles again and looks down at himself.  “Let’s just say the uniform hides a multitude of sins.  High tech fabric and all that.  I don’t know how it works, just that it does.”_

_“So underneath that uniform?”_

_“Is in desperate need of a shower.”_

_Darcy glances over at the readout, which shows one hour and twenty minutes to go until calibration is completed.  But she’s now got an idea as to how to pass the remaining time thanks to Steve’s statement about what lies below the uniform.  She taps her foot against his side.  “Hey.”_

_“What is it?”_

_She crooks a finger, beckoning him closer to her position on the floor.  “C’mere.”_

_Even though she can’t see it through the mask, Darcy imagines that Steve’s eyebrows are reaching for the sky.  “Am I going to regret this?” he asks.  He doesn’t say no, however, and pulls some sort of athletic move that has him propped right over her body, weight held up by his forearms, toes, and little else._

_Darcy hooks her finger into the small gap between his collar and throat and pulls him down even closer.  “I have always wanted to make out with a superhero while in costume,” she whispers into his mouth._

_Steve shakes his head, and Darcy can only wonder what’s going through that head of his.  The thought of someone they know walking in on them does flit through her mind, but the thought flies right back out at the sight of Steve licking his lips quickly, briefly.  Before he starts to think too hard (because he is Steve Rogers and he does that sometimes, getting all broody and stubborn) she pulls him down, fitting his mouth neatly to hers.  The response is immediate in the way their tongues tangle together, the way his hips fit in the cradle of her legs like he was designed to exist in that space._

_But good god is it freaking hot in this damned attic.  That sweat pooling at the base of her sternum isn’t sexy sweat, her scalp is getting progressively itchier, and whatever material they used to make up the palms of Steve’s gloves is kind of scratching her bare legs.  Not to mention cutting down the dexterity she knows those fingers have without them._

_So when Steve pulls back, giving them both some much needed air, Darcy blurts out, “Okay, this is probably one of the least sexy ideas I’ve ever had.”  A second after that she smacks herself in the forehead, realizing that is probably not the best thing to say to the guy who’s indulging your crazy idea anyway._

_To her immense relief Steve laughs long and loud as he rolls off and lands on the floor next to her.  “It’s not that amusing,” she mutters as he keeps on laughing, finally trailing off to little gasping huffs._

_“I could have told you that,” Steve says when he’s calmed down enough to breathe properly.  He plucks at the blue fabric covering his leg.  “It’s better for deflecting bullets rather than…than- “_

_“Sexytimes?” Darcy fills in, brushing her rapidly frizzing hair out of her face.  It’s one of the only times in her life where she actually wants a cold shower._

_“Well, I wouldn’t quite put it like that, but yeah,” Steve says, still trying to tamp down the laughter._

_“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, chuckles.  You know, that seriously burst all of my fantasy bubbles,” Darcy grouses, folding her arms over her chest.  She thinks better of it a moment later when the feeling of her skin brushing up against itself becomes uncomfortably warm.  Still, she readjusts so that her head is pillowed on Steve’s shoulder.  The arm under her head curls up, gloved fingers attempting to weave through her hair (they get snagged on the strands instead)._

_“I don’t think they took the opportunity for necking into account when the uniform was designed,” Steve says in an unusually soft voice which makes a lot more sense when Darcy remembers where the design for the 21 st century uniform came from.  Steve props himself up a bit, checking out the readout that’s still counting down the calibration.  “An hour to go,” he says._

_“I wanna go home,” Darcy says, sounding much more like a whine than she intends.  Still, Steve’s seeing her looking like a total disaster and hasn’t run away yet, so he can put up with her crying like a five year old for a few minutes._

_Steve cocks his head to the side, his cheek just brushing the top of her head.  She hopes his helmet doesn’t knock her out, because that would be the crowning achievement of this night.  “My bike’s back at HQ,” he says.  “Once you’re done we pick up the bike and get out of here, head towards a shower, and then just relax, take it easy for the rest of the night.”_

_Darcy looks over at him, taking in the curve of his jaw and the movement of his throat as he swallows.  A slow grin spreads over her face.  “Can I strip you out of the uniform?”_

_She can tell he’s holding back the laughter again when he looks down at her, his eyes practically glowing blue in the low light of the attic._

_Not long after that, there’s a uniform update, a design that’s a lot more subtle, more muted, and makes Steve look a hell of a lot more dangerous.  The added sex appeal also works very, very well for Darcy.  The standout part of the new uniform for her is the set of fingerless gloves that grant Steve a lot more dexterity and flexibility than the old gloves._

_This is proven when they go back to that old attic to retrieve Jane’s monitoring equipment and Steve slides his hand into her panties.  He brings her off quickly, bare fingers stroking and teasing.  Darcy is reduced to quivering and shaking, slumped against the silver star on his chest as his other hand cards through her hair._

_*                      *                      *_

            Now, it’s Darcy’s turn to take control.  She weaves her hand into Steve’s hair, pulling his head back with more force than is probably necessary.  She’s sure she can feel him harden even more inside her.  She pulls until his throat is exposed, watches as his eyes fall shut and his mouth drops open, just slightly, so he can lick some of the dryness from his lips.  ‘Isn’t that just a gorgeous sight?’ Darcy thinks as she bends down to sink her teeth into that cord on the side of his neck.

            The sound that he makes when she does this?  That only makes her want to bite harder so she can hear it again and again, until he falls apart, just for her.

                                                *                      *                      *

            _There is no one specific moment that can be pointed to, nothing that distinctively says ‘this is the time when everything changes.’  And nothing does change in their everyday lives; that’s the funny part.  Steve gets sent out on missions every so often, going to the places where his special skills are needed while Darcy keeps Jane fed and watered and on the right side of sanity while trying to pick up the pieces of the lab that was destroyed in the clone invasion.  On the nights when they’re both in the same city they go do the things that any good friends would do; the movies, bowling, museums and art gallery openings.  Places Steve wouldn’t want to venture out to on his own.  He genuinely enjoys the art at almost all of the galleries; Darcy mostly goes for the free wine and nibbles.  Maybe it’s an excuse to hang out, but neither one of them is really complaining about it._

_Family dinner nights at Stark Tower are especially fun.  It’s always nice to be around people who are in the know and don’t blink twice when Tony slips up and calls Steve ‘Capsicle’ yet again, despite the multiple exhortations from Pepper to please not do so.  And as Darcy is a good friend of the mighty god of Thunder, of course she is always welcome.  It is a little intimidating at times, Darcy thinks, hanging out with all those supers.  But she’s made it a point throughout her life to always hold her own, and instead of creeping around she’ll just slot herself right in like she’s always belonged._

_It’s a good feeling._

_And if anyone notices that around the end of the night Darcy and Steve start to migrate towards each other until they’re nearly inseparable, well, they haven’t said anything about it yet.  They also don’t notice how instead of going into Grand Central to catch her subway home Darcy stands and waits in front of the newly repaired terminal for Steve and his bike to show up, whisking them away to his place in Brooklyn or to her teensy-tiny studio that can barely fit the two of them inside._

_It’s a simple and uncomplicated addition to their lives.  Some of the best times are when they can relax, be themselves, and enjoy each other’s company._

_This should be a sign, but then again hindsight is twenty-twenty.  Steve’s prowess at understanding women is, well, pretty much non-existent, while Darcy?  She’s not exactly an expert on romance either.  Good in bed, certainly.  But knowing about the hearts and flowers of it all?  Not exactly her speed._

_Of course, hearts and flowers isn’t the only part of what real love is.  Real love is blood and strife and bless, dangerous, passionate, a pain in the ass yet worth fighting for, respect and trust and lust and utter madness.  They will learn this eventually._

_The thing is, no matter how much they try to keep things quiet, there’s always someone who notices something.  A touch of a hand, a sly glance, a sneaky grin, all of these things can get the attention of a seasoned eye._

_“So what’s going on with you and Foster’s assistant?” Natasha asks as they’re flying back from another difficult mission._

_“What do you mean?” Steve asks.  He’s not stupid; he knows she’s looking for information.  It’s far more prudent to play unaware than to let the cat out of the bag, however.  If Natasha figures out what’s going on, he thinks, it won’t be because he says anything incriminating._

_Natasha shrugs, a casual, delicate move that is enhanced by the small spattering of mud and blood on the cheek nearest to him that she must have missed in her cleaning up process.  “Just that you looked rather close the other night.  That’s all.”_

_“She’s a good friend,” Steve says, just as nonchalantly, although it’s almost impossible for him – or anyone – to match Natasha’s level of coolness._

_“That’s surprising,” Natasha says, though her face isn’t relaying any of this._

_Steve raises his eyebrows in her direction.  It’s not the answer he expects to hear, and he’s curious enough to see what she means by it – or wants him to think it means.  He can’t always tell.  “And why is that?”_

_She leans back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest.  “She always comes across as really young.”_

_“I’m not really as old as everyone thinks I am.”_

_“I meant in her demeanor.”_

_Steve nods, steepling his fingers in front of his face.  While it’s true that Darcy is exuberantly youthful, he won’t deny that, there’s far more than that youthfulness.  Which, come to think of it, Natasha has seen in action in the past, especially after the clone invasion._

_She’s definitely fishing now.  Steve thinks that she’d learn more by just peeping through the curtains in his apartment, but he can appreciate the effort on her part to handle things with some degree of discretion.  “You and I both know that’s not truly the case, so why are you really asking?”_

_A slow grin spreads across Natasha’s face.  “Idle curiosity.”_

_Steve’s mind flips through any number of reasons as to why he likes hanging out with Darcy.  There’s a larger amount than he expects, and surprisingly only a handful of them have anything to do with sex.  “She’s a good listener,” he eventually settles on.  “I can talk to her, and she listens, and just wants to make sure I’m okay at the end of it all.”_

_“Interesting,” is all that Natasha comments in response._

_“It’s the things that friends do, right?” Steve says._

_*                      *                      *_

Darcy’s hips begin to rock slowly, sliding up and down the hard length of Steve’s cock.  He feels truly incredible inside of her, and she moans into the skin of his neck, breathing damply into the five days’ worth of stubble he hasn’t bothered to shave off yet.

            It’s when she tangles her hands in his dog tags and pulls, trying to expose even more of his neck to her questing mouth, that Steve’s hands land firmly on her hips and still her movements.  As he pulls back she can see his eyes have gone soft and dark, staring at her.  “Slow down,” he says, voice much rougher than it normally is.

            Darcy smirks at him, weaving her hand through his hair.  “Too stimulating?”

            The look Steve shoots her clearly says she knows damn well how stimulating it is.  Her innocent act isn’t succeeding, especially when he’s buried as deep inside her as he is.  All Darcy can do is giggle at him.

            Steve sighs and leans back, arms behind him keeping him upright and giving Darcy a perfect view of the distinctive lines of his stomach.  “Just give me a minute,” he says.

            Darcy rests against his upraised knees, marveling at the neat V shape their bodies form.  “We’ve got all night,” she says.  “And I’m not going anywhere.”

                                                *                      *                      *

            _“So what’s with the,” Darcy waves her hand at the scruff covering the lower half of Steve’s face, “fuzz you’ve got going on?”_

_They’re walking along the boardwalk at Coney Island, taking in the autumn day that feels all too much like summer and mingling with the crowds, two unknown faces in the sea of humanity.  It’s far enough away to be a little escape from the city and everyone they know, at least.  Steve’s been walking around for the last few days like he’s got a persistent thundercloud hovering over his head.  Maybe that’s why he looks like he hasn’t shaved for a week._

_Steve makes a face that can only be described as disgruntled and scratches at the hairs on his face that are coming in far darker than the strands on the top of his head.  “Clint suggested it.  He says it’s a good way to easily change your appearance naturally.”_

_Darcy frowns and spins so that she can walk backwards while giving Steve a suspicious look.  “Why the hell would you need to change your look?”  She almost walks into another couple strolling behind her, but Steve manages to carefully guide her out of the way before she can cause any damage.  They lean against the railing of the boardwalk instead, Steve slouching down and tugging at the brim of his baseball cap.  “There’s talk around the office of going public with the team’s identities.”_

_“What?!”  Darcy’s jaw drops, and she pushes her sunglasses up so she can see him clearly.  “Why the fuck do they think that’s a good idea?”_

_Steve purses his lips and stares out over the ocean.  “I don’t think it’s a good idea, but I don’t know if I have a choice.  Too many people are looking for answers and accountability from us, and putting our faces out there may help to smooth things over a bit.”_

_“Are they going to put your whole story out there?” Darcy asks, her hand reaching out to grasp the bicep nearest to her.  She’s not sure if she’s trying to comfort herself or him, however.  “You know, the stuff with the ice nap and all that?”_

_“No idea.  The talks haven’t gone that far yet.  We’re still trying to decide if it’s a legitimate possibility.”  Steve crosses his arms over his chest and slumps further against the railing, looking oddly small for such a big guy._

_Darcy sighs and rests her hands on his folded arms.  “It’s got to be more than a possibility if it’s bothering you this much.”_

_“I’m not exactly the world’s most open person,” Steve says with a wry grin.  “This plan goes through anything even remotely resembling privacy is shot to hell.”_

_“Which explains the face fuzz.”_

_“Apparently scruffy doesn’t exactly fit Cap’s image.  At least according to some analysts at SHIELD.”_

_She stretches out her hand, cupping his cheek and feeling the hairs tickle against her palm.  “For what it’s worth, this is a damn good look for you.  Yeah, it’s a little lumberjack, but it works.”_

_Steve wraps a hand around the curve of her hip and pulls her close.  He bends slightly and kisses her softly, sweetly.  “Thank you,” he says when he pulls back.  They’re not at all the type of people who are inclined to public displays of affection, but it feels right._

_Darcy scratches at his cheek once more, and he leans into her touch. She then moves back, taking in the whole package in front of her, the hat, the beard, the jeans, and the t-shirt that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination, all still slouched against the rail and looking entirely nervous.  “It’s very trendy and current, actually.”_

_“Now you’re just reaching,” he smirks._

_“It’s the patented Darcy Lewis cheer-up plan,” she says, flicking at the brim of his baseball cap, “tailored specifically to one Steve Rogers.  S’it working yet?”_

_Steve pushes himself off the railing and takes her hand in his, pulling her down the boardwalk.  “Not sure yet,” he says, eyes straight ahead and fixed on his goal.  “But I’ll know more after we get ice cream.”_

_“That’s not a part of the plan!” Darcy says to his back, though she’s sure he can hear the amusement in her voice._

_“It’s called improvising,” Steve says.  “You know, winging it.”_

_“Steve Rogers in a nutshell, ladies and gentlemen.”_

_*                      *                      *_

It only takes a short while for Steve to regain his equilibrium.  While getting lost in Darcy is truly one of his favorite experiences, tonight he wants to take his time.  To trace over every curve and angle with just the tips of his fingers until she can hardly see straight.  He’s done that before, reading her body like it’s a map of newly discovered territory, and every time he does he learns something new.

            She’s still straddling him, her hands splayed out on his stomach as she breathes deeply, rosy-tipped breasts moving with every exhalation.  Darcy’s hair is a wavy mess, eyes heavy-lidded and skin slick with sweat.  It suits her.  “God, you’re gorgeous,” Steve says, sitting up fully and wrapping his hands around her hips.

            To his amazement she blushes, the pink flush spreading out across her cheeks.  “Thank you.”

            Steve slides his arms around her waist, pulls her closer, and flips their position, pressing Darcy’s back into the mattress. Their bodies stay fully connected all the while.  Steve stares down at her wide eyes, watches as her fingers tangle in his dog tags again.

            Matching smiles spread across their faces, and Steve begins to thrust inside her once more.

                                                *                      *                      *

**_Earlier Tonight_ **

            _They’re at another art gallery.  She knows Steve takes refuge from all of the SHIELD fuckery with art, usually by spending a good few hours with a sketchbook and solitude.  She’s not quite sure how he wrangles the invites to all of these shows, but she’s not complaining about being asked along.  In this world of art and gallery shows everyone gravitates toward him by sheer virtue of his nature alone.  Darcy gets that, she’s been swept up into his orbit herself.  Everyone at the gallery tonight thinks he’s this regular guy with a boring day job and an affinity for early 20 th century art. They see the same thing she does; Steve Rogers the man and not the guy in the spangly suit._

_Steve is rocking the scruffy look again, so far from anyone’s preconceived notion of Captain America that the average person would have a hard time connecting the two.  SHIELD hasn’t made any full decisions in regards to the identity issue yet, but Steve’s not leaving anything to chance anymore.  Captain America wouldn’t ever leave his t-shirt untucked as he wanders around the open gallery space, making conversation with some of the various people he runs across.  She smiles into her cup, happy to see Steve so relaxed and at ease, even if she doesn’t quite understand what the artists are trying to get across with their mixed media paintings._

_Still, when she crosses paths with one of the artists not long after, Darcy’s sure to compliment her; she can only imagine how much work went into every piece._

_“Thanks,” the artist says a bit bashfully, as if she’s not used to the attention.            “I’m curious, why’d you decide to use the wax with the paint?” Darcy asks.  The artist, older than Darcy by a good ten or fifteen years, suddenly sparkles and becomes animated over the prospect of talking about her work._

_And it’s fascinating, her process, it truly is.  But Darcy can’t help it that every so often her eyes drift back over to Steve, who smiles back and raises his glass at her._

_“You know, I think you’ve spent more time looking at your friend there than you have looking at the art.”  Darcy looks back at the artist feeling all sorts of sheepish for having been caught by someone other than Steve.  Luckily the artist is smiling, even though it’s the sort of smile that unnerves Darcy a bit._

_Now Darcy’s sure she’s blushing, though she’s not sure if it’s because she was caught not looking at the art or because she was caught looking at Steve.  “He’s a fascinating fella,” she manages to squeak out.  “Not that your art’s not really good and thought provoking and - - “_

_Thankfully the artist puts Darcy out of her misery and cuts her off with a laugh.  “It’s okay.”  Her eyes dart back and forth between Darcy and Steve and the look on her face shifts into something much more knowing, almost maternal.  Which just serves to make Darcy suspicious instead of comforted, for sure._

_“What?”_

_“One of the overarching themes I tried to incorporate into this collection is the idea of hidden truths.  That we, as humans, often miss what’s right in front of our eyes.”  She pauses, looks between the two of them once more.  “But if we just open our eyes a little more, look a little deeper, a little further, we’d be amazed at what we can find there.”  The artist sips delicately at her clear, bubbly drink._

_Darcy purses her lips, unsure if this woman has sussed out Steve’s identity or is talking about something entirely different.  “It’s an interesting thought,” she says carefully.  “Maybe I’ll take another look at the paintings and see what pops out.”_

_The artist smiles and cocks her head to the side.  “Enjoy,” she says with a wink, then spins to air kiss the cheek of the rather severe woman who is tapping on her shoulder.  Darcy’s eyes trail after her until she shakes herself out of her stupor, trying to get rid of the odd feeling that’s settled over her._

_Honestly though, this doesn’t even rate on the scale of weird she’s applied to her life ever since New Mexico.  So instead she heads over to Steve who is deep in a conversation with a bespectacled and tight trousered young man about pin up girl art, of all things.  “Do I even want to know?” she smirks as she sidles up to him.  Steve slides an arm around her waist and grins down at her._

_“The merits of a popular form of art and how it was used as a morale booster,” Steve says, eyes gleaming._

_“Ooh, porn!” she crows, leaning back so she’s sure Steve can see her shit-eating grin._

_Steve’s companion raises one slender finger in the air and says, “Now wait a second, I am fully prepared to argue that pin-up art is…”_

_As he rambles on, laying out all of his salient points, Steve bends slightly and whispers in Darcy’s ear, “You know you’d make one hell of a pin-up girl with those seamed stockings of yours.”_

_Darcy lifts her head until her nose is brushing against his cheek.  “Wanna help me get out of them later, soldier?”_

_“Yes, please, ma’am.”_

_*                      *                      *_

She’s so close, Steve knows.  He’s learned the signs over the months they’ve been doing this, when her hands begin to claw instead of glide, how her legs lock around his hips to pull him closer with each stroke, the gasping, rough little breaths that force their way out of her mouth every time he thrusts.  She’s almost there.

            Steve’s riding the knife’s edge, little sparks skittering up his spine every time her internal walls clench around his dick.  But he’ll be able to hold it back until he’s sure she comes.  It’s a point of pride, really.  He reaches down with his left hand, finds her hand, and laces their fingers together as he braces them near Darcy’s head.  Steve’s other hand skates down her hip to her thigh, hitching it even higher so he can drive deeper inside her.

            Darcy’s mouth moves; she’s whispering something but the blood’s rushing in his ears, making the rest of the world fade away.  “What is it?” Steve asks, feeling fairly breathless himself as he slows down his thrusts to hear what she’s saying.

            She looks up at him, eyes hazy and soft.  But there’s something strong and calm in her eyes which intrigues the hell out of him.  The hand on his shoulder slides up and cups the back of his neck, her thumb stroking where his pulse pounds beneath his jaw.  “What I said the first time we had sex.  That what we’re doing is just what friends do.”

            Her words sink in fast, and Steve stops moving, still buried deep inside her.  His brain’s not exactly fully engaged at the moment in anything except for her in the here and now, but Steve’s certain there’s something more going on.

            When she runs her hand through the short hairs on the back of his head he finally _gets_ it.  A slow, wicked grin takes over his face, and he leans down.  Their lips are barely brushing each other, and he says just one word.

            “Bullshit.”

                                                *                      *                      *

            _The gallery show ends later than expected, and by the time the taxi drops them off at Steve’s apartment all Darcy can really do is flop face first onto his bed, shoes dangling off the end.  “Oww,” she whines as her high heels fall off of her feet and onto the floor._

_Steve smiles as he hangs his blazer back in the closet.  From this angle he’s got a very nice view of the back of Darcy’s flared skirt and those seamed stockings that stretch all the way up the length of her legs.  It’s a nice sight, even though if he was going to draw her like a pin-up girl he’d prefer to see her face in there._

_On second thought, that come hither look of hers is something he’d like to keep all to himself.  He can be a possessive bastard at times, and he doesn’t want to share his girl with the world when she’s got that look that’s meant for him and him alone.  Now, she just looks cute.  She’s still on her stomach paging through one of his tech magazines, her stocking covered heels kicking lazily in the air.  And despite the fact that they’ve never exchanged any words to indicate as such, Steve knows with every degree of certainty that she’s all his._

_And he’s all hers too._

_And doesn’t it feel good to finally admit that, even if it’s just to himself?_

_Steve lies down as well, falling over onto his back.  The pages of the magazine are riffling right by his ear, the small sound almost blotted out by the whirr of the ceiling fan above.  He can see Darcy shooting him tiny little smiles out of the corner of his eye._

_“Okay, you’re starting to look a little crazycakes there, Steve,” Darcy says, pushing the magazine off the bed and rolling over to face him.  “What’s going through that head of yours?”_

_He twists his head to look at her, still grinning widely.  “It just hit me.  That even after everything, the serum, the war, waking up in a new world seventy years in the future, even the damn aliens…that I’m actually happy.  And that right here, right now?  This is exactly where I want to be.”  He doesn’t mean to confess this much, not at all, but once the words start they’re as impossible to push back as the ocean._

_Darcy shifts over to kiss him, deep and soft, her hand resting over his heart.  She pulls away and rests her forehead against his.  “I’m really glad you’re here, too.”_

_Steve stretches up to kiss her again, parting her lips and diving right in.  They roll as one until Darcy is pressed back into the pillows.  He sits up, taking in the sight below him.  Darcy’s face is flushed prettily, her hair a cloud around her head, and her full lips reddened from their kisses.  Her glasses are slightly askew on her face, but he can still easily make out her precisely made up eyes._

_Best of all, she’s still smiling at him, making Steve feel like he’s hung the moon and come back with a handful of stars, just for her._

_When he looks down her body, he notices that the stockings are still on her legs.  Steve shifts until he’s sitting down by her knees, and lifts one of Darcy’s legs until it’s propped on his shoulder.  “Now I believe I mentioned something earlier about stripping you out of these stockings?” he says, pressing a kiss to the inside of her ankle._

_“Yeah, you might want to get on that.  Like, right now, kay?”_

_*                      *                      *_

“Huh?”

             “This thing we have,” Steve says, the words rushing out so he can make that look of confusion on her face go as far away as possible, “whatever it is, went beyond just friends a long time ago.”

            “Oh.”  The haze in Darcy’s eyes clears up as her hand tightens on the back of his neck.  “Totally glad to hear we’re on the same page.”  She slams their mouths together, kissing him until his hips begin to move reflexively once more.  “Let’s do this thing,” she mumbles into his mouth.

            Steve just nods, still kissing her throughout it all, and picks up the pace.  She won’t break, and can take whatever he can throw at her, so he falls into a rhythm that’s just this side of punishing that he knows Darcy loves.  He can feel the sweat prickling on his forehead, dripping down the curve of his spine.

            One particularly deep thrust makes Darcy arch up off the bed, breasts pressing against his chest.  Her fingers squeeze his hand, still clutched in hers and raised above her head, more tightly than he would have ever imagined possible.  “Oh, fuck, Steve,” she whines, her head tossing about on the pillow.  Very close, so very close, Steve knows, her cunt fluttering around his cock and her mouth lapping at his pulse in the wrist right by her head.

            “Please,” she whimpers again, which spurs Steve on even more.  He slips his free hand between their bodies, sliding down to where they’re joined together.  She’s soaking wet all around him, and the feel of that alone sends more shudders racing down his back.  Steve’s fingers lace through the coarse hair until he finds her clit and begins to rub it in short, firm strokes.

            It doesn’t take long before Darcy shatters below him.  Her back arches high off the bed and her fingers clutch his hand so tightly it’s a wonder she doesn’t break his bones.  And yet, it’s the little hitching gasps and the broken syllables of his name that slip past Darcy’s lips that truly put him right up on the edge.

            Steve moves faster and faster, sacrificing rhythm for passion.  His hips stutter as the pressure becomes almost unbearable, finally giving way with a sharp gasp that’s muffled in the soft skin of her shoulder while his own body breaks apart.  Darcy’s free hand is on the back of his neck once more, pressing down and easing him through every last shudder.

            When it feels like he can finally see straight once more, Steve lifts his head up and brushes his mouth against hers.  It barely counts as a kiss, it’s so soft, but he can still feel her gently smiling below him.  He wants to say something, anything, but it’s hard to come up with words right now.

            “Brain scrambled, can’t think,” Darcy whispers breathlessly, and Steve huffs a light laugh against her mouth.

            “Yeah…”

            It’s just a few moments after that, only separating to take care of the condom and attempt to clean up their sticky bodies, that they fall asleep together, staying close throughout the night.

            Steve wakes up to the sound of Darcy giggling in bed next to him.  It’s an utterly entrancing sound, and he thinks he wouldn’t mind waking up to that every day.  He opens his eyes only to find that it’s still dark out, and the only light that he’s seeing is from the streetlamps.  Darcy’s sitting up against his headboard, the thin sheet draped around her hips and her hair even wilder than before.  She finally looks down at him when he shifts onto his side and wraps an arm around her thighs.

            “You know, we kind of suck at this whole just friends thing,” she says once the giggles have petered out.

            Steve pauses, mulling over her words.  Then he sits up as well, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling Darcy close so that she eventually rests back against his bare chest.  “I don’t know; I think we’re pretty damn good at being friends,” he says.  “We’re just…something more too.”

            “Hmm.”  Darcy nods, and he can feel her back straighten up against his chest.  “I think, in the interest of full disclosure and all that, I should probably let you in on one of those little secrets we girls have.  I mean, sure, it’s not as exciting as stashing your naughty tech porn under the bed…” she trails off, her nose wrinkling as she tilts her head back on his chest to look up at him.

            “Making fun of my search for contemporary knowledge and staying up to date on the latest technological advancements, are you?”

            “Never.  I’m making fun of the fact that you hide them under the bed like you’re afraid your mom’s going to come by and find your stash of naughtiness.”  Darcy twists so that she can look at him, settling on her knees and shins in the crumpled bed sheet.  Her face and posture scream confidence, but the way her hands twist in the sheet below says something entirely different.

            “Only if Stark was to come by and catch me with them.  I like reading in bed.  It’s convenient to have them there.  Now you gonna tell me or harass me?” Steve smirks, shifting so that he can face her full on.

            Darcy leans forward, rests her arms on his shoulders, and moves in close enough that Steve can feel her warm breath against the shell of his ear.  “Sometimes, girls fall in love with their best friends.”

            Steve freezes on the spot, but before he can speak – hell, before he can even react Darcy pulls away and lets loose with an impressive stream of babble.  “It’s kind of strange, you know?  You never see anything like this coming and then one day you wake up and realize holy shit, I really love this guy who’s my best friend.  Only by that time it’s too late, you’ve already fallen fast and hard and you can’t really figure out which way is up anymore – “

            Steve cuts her rambling off by taking her face in his hands and pressing a firm kiss to her mouth.  Darcy hardly even offers up a token protest before relaxing into the kiss, hands stroking over the ridges of his stomach.  It’s lazy and leisurely and they kiss like they’ve got all the time in the world.

            Maybe now they do.

            He pulls away slightly, trailing kisses over Darcy’s cheek back to her ear.  “Wanna know another secret?” Steve whispers.  “I love you too.”

            Yeah.  Exactly where he wants to be.  And it feels incredibly right.

            Darcy pulls back, eyes fluttering open like she’s just woken from a sound sleep.  She gives him one of the most brilliant grins Steve’s ever seen in his life.  Then it turns impish, reflecting that spark in her deep blue eyes which speaks of the best kind of danger.  “Yeah, I kinda already knew that secret,” she says, the tip of her tongue just barely poking out of the corner of her mouth.  “You’re going to have to give me something else.”

            Steve arches an eyebrow at her.  “Oh, really?” he says, right before he proceeds to tackle her back to the mattress, laughing loudly and raucously as they get lost in each other once more.

            “Tell me again?” Darcy asks, pulling him down on top of her and wrapping her arms around Steve’s chest to keep them as close as possible.  “I know you feel it; I do too.  But I like hearing the words.”  One arm pulls back so she can rub her thumb over his lips, as if the mere touch will induce language. 

            Steve purses his mouth, kissing the pad of her finger.  He tells her again, the words coming easier with every repetition until he’s sure she won’t ever forget them.

**Author's Note:**

> I often post sneak previews, Sunday sixes, and other fic related things at my tumblr, along with many, many pictures. Stop by and say hi if you'd like! Aenariasbookshelf.tumblr.com.


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